Holding Fast
by Melenna
Summary: A visit to a haunted mansion seems just the thing to break the monotony of life after the last battle. But will Harry and the others be able to save a man who has been dead fifty years? The problem is, to save him, they have to find his killer. Slash, rom
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey Kiddies! Sorry about my long absence, but I have a new story. I've got really bad writers block on the other on, so it was hard to post anything resembling good. But then I got a plot bunny and decided to run with it. I don't own 'em, and this will be slash… somehow…  Love you all, and PLEASE, I beg of you, review and tell me whether or not to post anymore.

"Hermione, really. It won't do any harm; it's just a haunted house! You can come too. Think of it as an educational experience." Harry cajoled his friend, grinning at Ron over Hermione's shoulder. The three friends had settled themselves in Ron's old room at The Burrow. Hermione and Ron were curled up on his bed, acting every bit the engaged young couple they were. Harry was perched lightly on a desk in the corner.

"Boys, you're both acting like you're sixteen again. Playing pranks on Ginny, visiting haunted houses. What's next, are we going to sneak into a pub under your invisibility cloak? Unlike you, I do not have the juvenile urge to sleep in a house haunted by a malicious spirit!" she hopped off the desk, turned and stalked out of Ron's old room, where he and Harry were staying.

"So, you really want to do this, mate?" Ron asked, arching an eyebrow. "I mean, it's all well and good poking fun at 'Mione, but going to a real haunted house?" At twenty years old, Harry had loosened up quite a bit. Defeating Voldemort at eighteen had taken its toll, but Harry was quickly improving under his friends' watchful eyes. Harry just grinned at the redhead.

"Of course I want to do it, Ron. Seriously, I've already beaten the worst evil can throw at me. What's one bad-spirited spirit?"

"You've been waiting all day to say that, haven't you?"

"Yeah." The room was filled with laughter, and Harry tossed an overnight bad at Ron. "So, let's go find this ghost! How far away did you say the old mansion was?" Harry questioned.

"About twenty miles south of here. We can Apparated, no problem." Harry flicked his wand, and several essentials flew into his bag. Ron mimicked the motion, and a sock hopped lamely to his side. "Oh well. Mum never expected much to come out of me in the way of tidying charms. Guess she was right."

Neither man had any idea what they had set in motion when they Apparated twenty miles south.

The mansion was bigger than either man had expected. Even with the back of the house caved in and blackened, it was still close to a quarter the size of Hogwarts.

"What are we waiting for? Let's go inside." Harry whispered, nudging his friend. Ron threw his bag over his shoulder and pushed open the iron gates. The house was still, quiet and foreboding. The land had turned wild, and the branches and brush tugged at their clothes, like little hands warning them to stay away, not to go any further. But the men were oblivious. The mansion was drawing them slowly into its grasp.

"Are you sure it's safe, Ron?" said a feminine voice from behind them. Both men jumped, and Ron let out a small shriek before he realized who it was.

"Hermione! I thought you weren't coming! We didn't hear you apparate in." Ron said quickly, sounding relieved.

"I couldn't very well let the two of you stay out here on your own now, could I? You would likely as not have been eaten by... well, by something." Hermione replied, taking complete charge. "Besides, I wouldn't want you two to start a fire and have this house burn worse than before. Harry turned.

"It's been burned before?" he asked quietly. It was as if he didn't want anyone to overhear.

"Didn't you know? That's why this mansion is abandoned. It used to be owned by the Malfoys. Draco's great grandfather lived here with his family. Very sad story, I've read all about it. There was a fire, and...Let's go inside, and I'll tell you the whole story. It's getting dark."

The sky had indeed succumbed to night, and the humid air began to cool. A light wind swept through black limbs, making them groan with the effort of staying attached to the tree. One lonely shutter banged against the side of the dilapidated mansion.

None of them saw the light flicker on in one of the top rooms of the house.

The large front door was unlocked, and the trio stepped cautiously inside. The foyer was huge, with a fireplace on each side and a big couch in the middle in front of a giant staircase. Two doors led out of the room from either side of the staircase. The coat rack had tipped over, and lay in front of the doorway. Dust covered everything, and puffed up around their feet as they walked. Then Hermione giggled nervously.

"I keep expecting to hear pipes banging or see floating chairs. That's why people say this place is haunted. They talk themselves into it." she said, pulling a moth-eaten blanket off the couch and shaking the dust out. "It might even be rather hospitable if it were cleaned up a bit." Harry ran his fingers along the mantle above one of the fireplaces while Ron lit a few magical lanterns.

"I can only imagine what this place must've been like before the fire." Harry said, lifting a small box from the mantle and dusting it off. He opened the box, and suddenly the whole room was filled with music. The tune was reminiscent of youth, games of children, and parties. It was of innocence and remembering. Harry was at once transformed. He was dressed in a white suit with a top hat and cane, and the foyer blossomed, it was clean and new, and decorated as a ballroom. There were smiling couples arm in arm, dancing, talking and laughing together. He was offered a glass of wine, and accepted, looking down over his nineteenth birthday party with approval. Only one person was missing or the night would've been a complete success. He glanced around the room, searching for-

Wait... Nineteenth birthday? I didn't celebrate my nineteenth birthday, and certainly not like this! The war was right at our doorsteps. If my mirror hadn't reminded me, I doubt I would've even noticed that I had turned another year older. Harry blinked, and the vision shattered.

"Harry? You okay, mate?" Ron was kneeling next to Harry, concern easily visible on his face.

"Oh, thank Merlin. What happened?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know, I was... It was like I was looking through someone else's eyes. I think it was the music. I was at a party, there were lots of people here, women in gowns and men in suits. I guess I was at a party here a long time ago," he said, shaking his head.

"Well, that would make sense, wouldn't it? The Malfoy name has always been a popular one, they had lots of get-togethers." Hermione explained. Harry scrambled to his feet.

"Where did the music box go?" he asked, brushing the dust from his clothes. Ron frowned.

"What music-box, Harry?" he asked cautiously.

"The one from the mantle. I opened it, and it started playing. You heard it, it filled the whole room. That was when I had the... vision."

"But Harry, there was no music. You were standing over by the fireplace, and you just fell." Hermione said.

"Hermione, I... you didn't hear anything?

"No, Harry." she replied softly. Harry looked to his best friend, and Ron shook his head.

"Maybe we should go back home. I mean, if you guys are scared. I know Mum was planning to make a roast tonight." Ron added hopefully. Harry shook his head.

"No. I want to stay. I have to know what that vision meant," he explained. "Hermione, you said you knew what had happened here. Why everyone left. Tell us. Please?"

"It's not a happy thing to tell Harry," she said, sitting with he back propped up against the couch.

"C'mon, 'Mione. You say that like we've never heard a sad story before. Let's hear it." Ron countered, seating himself next to his fiancé.

"If you insist. Oh, where to begin? Well, let's start with what we can. The Malfoy family -that would be Draco's great grandfather and his wife- lived here with their two children, Julian and Melody. They were a very close family, and Julian and Melody still loved at home at the time of the fire. He was twenty-two, and she nineteen. The neighborhood loved the Malfoys, and they had many friends. That's one reason the fire was such a mystery. No one they knew would've wanted to hurt them." At this, Ron scoffed.

"The Malfoy family, without enemies? I don't believe that, Hermione." he said.

"Not all the Malfoys were evil, Ron. In fact, Lucius was the first in this line to get involved in the dark arts, but I'm getting ahead of myself. Anyways..." Harry stood up quickly, interrupting her.

"Hold on. Do you smell that?" Ron and Hermione inhaled deeply. Hermione began to cough.

"Just dust and rotting wood, mate. Why?" Ron asked, rubbing Hermione's back.

"I could've sworn I smelled sandalwood." Harry sniffed again. The scent was stronger. "Something weird is going on. The scent is really strong, you guys should be able to smell it too," he said. Hermione finished coughing.

"Ron's right, Harry. I wonder if this ghost has something against you," she said.

"Or maybe old lady Malfoy has decided she fancies you, Harry." Ron grinned.

"Oi, sorry to disappoint, but he's gay!" Ron yelled to the house. Harry blushed.

"Shut up, Ron! What if there's someone outside? Do you know what the Daily Prophet would write if they found out?" he hissed.

"Oh, there's no one outside. Relax." Ron replied. He would've said more, but Hermione elbowed him.

"Do you two want to hear this story or not?" she asked. Both men nodded. "Alright then. Like I was saying, not all the Malfoys were evil. They used to be very well liked, and respected as royalty. They threw lavish parties, with lovely music and decorations, and they fed the entire surrounding area regularly with monthly dinner parties. The family itself was very close-knit, and Julian was fiercely protective of his younger sister. Well, when Melody was seventeen, she left to go study art at a muggle school in America. She got pregnant and returned a year later with her son." she nodded at the look on Harry's face. "Yes. Lucius. The family was surprised, as you can imagine, but they were supportive. They would help her raise the child, provided she stay at home until he was old enough to take care of himself. She agreed. She knew she could paint and take photographs here as easily as anywhere else, so they set up a nursery and a studio, and lived peacefully for about four months. But there's where things get fuzzy. Julian was twenty-two, and studying to be a Healer, like his mother. He was out in the surrounding land a lot, looking for herbs and other such things. One evening, the neighbors saw huge clouds of smoke pouring from the mansion. By the time they got here, most of the damage had already been done. They put the fire out, but it was too late. Lucius was found in an herb garden not far from the house, and was sent to live with a set of Malfoys completely estranged from this family." Harry nodded.

"That's how we got the Lucius we knew and loved." He stated. Hermione nodded.

"The weird thing is, the only body found was Julian's. It was like the rest of the family has just... disappeared. The investigators thought that Julian had probably been in the woods with the baby when the fire started. He must've ran back in when he realized that no one had gotten out of house. No one knows what happened to Melody and the others, but Julian died trying to find them." Hermione ended. Harry was still for a moment, but then caught the scent of something on the air. Smoke. Suddenly he was outside, and the sun was shining. He held the baby tightly as he ran towards the house. He saw the flame, felt their heart and cursed. He put Lucius down in a fenced in herb garden, out of harms way.

"You stay where you are, baby Luc." He spoke the words, but it wasn't his voice. It didn't matter. He had to get Melody. He ran towards the house and flung open the kitchen door. His eyes immediately began to water, and he raised his hand in front of his face, trying to ward off the black smoke billowing out at him. He ran inside and coughed, struggling to breathe. He pulled his shirt up over his mouth and nose.

"Melody? Mom? Dad? Can you hear me? I have to get you out! Where are you?" he screamed, blinking quickly to relieve his burning eyes. "Please! Melody! Yell if you can hear me!" His foot caught on a rug, and he fell forward, coughing. He tried to stand, but could hardly breathe, and he felt himself growing weaker and weaker. Thick smoke filled his eyes and mouth. He struggled, trying once more to get to his feet. "Melody! Please!" he whispered violently. He coughed once, gasped, and died.

"Harry! Harry, wake up!" Harry opened his eyes, and lapsed into a fit of coughs. He rolled over, and saw Hermione staring at him. "Damn it Harry, stop doing that!" she snapped. Then she hugged him.

"What happened, mate? You said something about a baby and then started shaking and wheezing. Hermione thought you were choking or something." Ron said, relieved.

"You stopped breathing for a second, Harry." Hermione looked close to tears.

"I'm fine, 'Mione. It was another vision, only different this time. I was holding a baby, and I could smell smoke. It was awful, the smoke burned my eyed, and I couldn't find Melody..." Harry stopped, trying to shake off the vivid horror of his vision.

"Melody? Harry, Melody and Julian are dead. They've been dead for almost fifty years." Hermione gently reminded him.

"I know, I... Guys, I think I was Julian. I think he's letting me see these things. The only body found was his. Maybe that means he's he ghost. And he's trying to talk to me." Harry said, closing his eyes.

"Well, these things always seem to seek you out, don't they? I suppose we're staying, then?" Ron asked bemusedly. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Of course we're staying, Ron! If Julian needs us, we're going to help him. Right, Harry? She paused, waiting for confirmation. "Harry?"

"Over here, 'Mione." Came Harry's voice from near the back of the room. "Guys, come with me. I want to look around. I want to find the clues that Julian couldn't."

Hope you enjoyed the first bit. Please review!


	2. The Room

Harry pushed open a door at the back of the room.

"Come with me." Hermione and Ron glanced at each other. Ron shrugged, and started after Harry. Hermione searched the foyer for a moment, and hurried after her friends.

Harry was running his fingers along the walls as he walked. He stopped and examined every piece of artwork, and took in the view from every window that passed.

M

A woman walked slowly though the garden outside. She held the hands of her baby as he cautiously stepped forward with her. The rest of the family sat on a nearby blanket, eating a picnic. They laughed and applauded at the baby's toothless grin. At that, the child began giggling and fell back on his bottom, his face lost for a moment in his mother's skirts. The woman leaned over, and pulled her skirt back.

"_Peek-a-boo, baby Luc!" the woman said, laughing at the startled look on her young son's face._

E

The family faded away like smoke in a gust of wind. Harry smiled, and turned away from the window. The hallway seemed to go on forever, and Hermione jiggled the doorknob of the first door they came to, but Harry didn't stop walking.

"That's just the parlor, 'Mione. Lets' keep going." He urged.

"How do you know it's a parlor? I want to look inside." She stated, pushing the door open slowly.

"It won't be of any use. The parlor was only opened when important guests came over." Harry replied. Hermione ignored him, and walked in anyways. Ron followed, but Harry stayed in the hallway, looking over a tapestry hanging on the wall.

"Wow!" Hermione exclaimed. The room was pristine, save for a thick sheet of dust covering everything. There was a petite looking white couch splashed with pink flowers, several small armchairs, a coffee table, and a white baby grand piano all set up comfortably in the parlor. Hermione used one of the curtains to rub years of grime from a window.

"Harry…" she raised her voice. "Harry, how did you know this was a parlor?" she asked cautiously.

"Hermione, what…" Ron started. Hermione put a finger against his lips.

"Shh! I think…" she stopped. "Harry?"

"Right here. I don't know how I knew. It was just like someone popped into my head and told me. It's a bit weird." Harry replied, wiping the dust from the piano bench and sitting down.

"Like someone was in your head? Telling you what to say?" Hermione asked insistently. Harry nodded, confirming her fears. "Harry, remember when that ghost tried to possess you a couple of years ago?"

"I remember. And I know what you're getting at. You're wrong. He isn't trying to possess me. He's just… pointing me in the right direction." Harry replied firmly. Ron cleared his throat.

"Harry, what's he leading you to?" he asked.

"I…. I don't know yet. But I'll know when I find it. This way. Up the servant's stairs." Harry walked out of the parlor, Ron and Hermione following him with shared looks of concern. He walked slowly to the end of the hall, batting at cobwebs around a warped wooden door. He jiggled the doorknob, but it was no use. The weather had changed the shape of the wood. Harry leaned against the door with all his weight, and it popped open an inch.

"There's something blocking the way. Hermione?" The girl pulled out her wand.

"Reducto! Harry, Ron, stand back." She cast a few more spells, and a strengthening spell on the doorframe. A few moments later, she stepped back, looking satisfied, and motioned the men forward. Harry eagerly pushed the door open the rest of the way, and three gasped, his friends echoing him as they looked past him.

It was like the door had led to another dimension. The walls were black with soot, and the roof had caved in several places. The walls bowed over, and the smell of mildew assaulted their nostrils. However, as Harry watched, time seemed to reverse itself. Nature's marks pulled away, and the walls rebuilt themselves. Within seconds, the place was whole again, phantoms of memories bustling around the kitchen preparing a meal.

L

"_Master Darius also requested that lemon tart be served with supper tonight." A skinny man, with a hooked beak that rivaled Severus Snape's reported._

"_Thank you, Johnson." A burly woman, who looked to be a cook replied. "See to Melody, will you? She'd just toddled off to the gardens."_

"_Of course. Though I'm sure young Julian is close behind. He wouldn't let any harm come to her." Johnson said with a smile. Sure enough, a few seconds later-_

"_Melody! Come back! We can't pick Mummy's flowers!" Six year old Julian struggled to lift his three year old sister. "Come with me. We'll go play on the brooms Daddy got us for Yule." Julian said. Melody giggled_

"_Kay kay Jule. Brooms!" she shrieked, kicking her feet in the air excitedly. _

O

Harry was suddenly thrown out of the memory.

"This used to be the kitchen. Everyone thought the fire started here, but it didn't. When Julian ran back inside, it was through this side door. There was a lot of smoke, but the fire started upstairs. The kitchen wasn't originally a part of the house; it was built later, so the upstairs didn't extend over it. My guess is that when the outer wall upstairs started to burn, the roof of the kitchen caught." Harry said, poking though the ashes with a bit of rusted metal. "The stairs are this way." He moved aside a large piece of rotted wood and began to test each stair carefully as he climbed. Ron followed behind him, and laughed nervously.

"It feels like first year again. Remember, always checking the staircases so we wouldn't get caught in a jinxed one?" Hermione giggled, climbing after the men, and Harry grinned.

"It's okay. I think these are safe, but they haven't been used in a long time." He replied.

"Fifty years… and some of the house shows no sign of the fire at all. The Malfoy's were a very powerful family, I'm sure they had protective spells weaved into the very woodwork. The fire had to have been started magically, and by a formidable witch or wizard." Hermione declared, awe coloring her voice.

"But who could have done something like that? Voldemort wasn't around yet, and no one really powerful has lived in this area for quite some time. Mum would've told us all about it otherwise." Ron replied, brushing some soot from his trousers as they reached the top of the stairs.

"Harry, where are we going?" Hermione asked.

"I'm not sure. Julian is telling me where to go."

"So he's actually talking to you?" Ron asked skeptically. Harry shook his head.

"Not exactly. He's just aiming me. Like he has his hand on my shoulder or something." Harry replied absentmindedly. The hallway upstairs was worse, by far, than the kitchen had been. They moved with extra care over the rotted floor, all three of then casting strengthening spells on the wood below them. Harry gently kicked aside a fallen beam, placing his hand on the wall for support. Suddenly-

D

_Three sets of feet were heard pounding up the stairs._

"_Melody, I understand that you want to study art. I can even cope with you going to a Muggle school. But why America?" a booming voice echoed up the stairs, and a beautiful girl a few years younger than Harry entered the hall, followed closely by he father and older brother. _

"_Father, I'll be fine! And I won't have any more talk! I'm going to America, and nothing you say will change my mind!" Melody declared, whipping around to face the two men._

"_But it's so far away! What if something was to happen to you, and-" She cut Julian off with a scathing look._

"_I'm seventeen years old, _Julian_. I don't need you to protect me anymore! Please, just let me have a life!" Her voice rose in pitch and by the last word, she was screaming. Their faces faded, twin looks of shock on the two men. _

Y

Harry watched the scene and turned away. He blinked a few times, and continued cautiously down the hall, thinking about what he had just seen. About fifty spell-strengthened feet later, he stopped at a charred hole in the wall that looked as if it had once been a doorway.

"We're here." He whispered.


	3. Connections

Ch. 3 The Family

A/N: I start school on the 5th, so I thought I'd update as much as possible this weekend. When we left off, Harry and the others were upstairs, and had just arrived at their destination prompted by Julian. Hope you like, and I would love it if you left a review so I can improve!

W

Harry's movements were slow and trancelike, as if he was moving through water. He quickly cast several strengthening charms, and then waved at Hermione and Ron to follow him. Wading through the rubble, Harry stumbled and reached out to steady himself on an ancient and rotted bedpost. He watched silently as the room began to rebuild itself and he was taken back in time.

I

The room was dark, lit only by a dim lantern. Julian sat at his desk, writing, as the magical light swirled over his face. Suddenly, a tapping was heard outside the window. Julian looked up and grinned, his face lighting up. He hurried to the window and pulled back the curtains to let in an owl.

"Hello, Mannie! What do you have for me tonight?"

Mannie flew in to perch on the bedpost. Julian hurriedly untied the scroll bound to the owl's leg and gave him a quick scratch on the head. Mannie trilled with contentment and nudged Julian's hand toward the scroll. He laughed. "Alright, I'll open it!" He unrolled the letter. It was surprisingly short.

_My dearest Julian,_

_I apologize for sending such a brief note. However, I hope you will forgive me when I tell you the good news; I now know when we will meet again. My love, my life! Look out your window._

_Eric_

Julian gasped and once again rushed to the window. He stuck his head out and gave and exhilarated laugh.

"Eric, what are you doing here?" The other man appeared next to Julian, mounted on a broomstick, grinning. He shook black curls out of his face to reveal dark blue eyes. He climbed inside with the help of Julian, who embraced the taller man as if he would never let go. Harry stood, a silent bystander to the reunion. _Who is that man? Looks kind of like me. They must have been lovers. Julian was gay._ The two held each other for a long time, seemingly melding in absolute perfection, love flowing freely through the room. They broke apart and sat down together on the edge of Julian's bed. Eric ran a hand through the other man's chocolate brown hair and smiled.

"Every time I see you, you're more beautiful." Eric said softly, stroking Julian's hair and face. "Those silver eyes. I swear, when you look at me, I fall in love all over again." Julian smiled, leaning into his lover's touch.

"You don't know how much I've missed you." Eric kissed Julian's forehead in response, then tilted the brunette's chin back. He lowered his lips softly to meet the other man's, and wrapped his arms around him. They kissed like that for a long time, long enough to make Harry uncomfortable, and he began to feel like he should clear his throat to make his presence know or leave the room. But then they broke apart, breathing heavily. Eric sighed.

"I wish it was you may parent wanted me to marry. The Malfoy name is as good as ours!"

"Are they on about Elizabeth again?" Julian asked.

"Naturally. If only we were braver. I would tell my parents, 'The only handfasting I do will be with Julian Malfoy!'" They kissed again. Julian moaned softly.

"And I would tell mine, 'I will marry none but Eric Potter!'" The pair joined their lips once again and Julian pushed Eric down on his bed, straddling him. Harry would have left immediately at that point, but his mind was screaming. _Potter. Eric Potter. As in William Eric Potter, my **grandfather!** _Harry sat down in surprise, as his vision turned foggy and he was gently pushed out of the vision.

L

Harry blinked, slowly coming back to reality. The night sky could be seen above, where the roof of Julian's bedroom had burned through or collapsed over the years. He shook himself, Ron and Hermione silently helping him to his feet.

"What was it this time Harry? You were out cold for almost a minute." Ron asked, once Harry had gotten his bearings again.

"I saw… wow. I saw Julian. He was visited in the middle of the night." He stopped, and brushed the grime from his clothes.

"By a woman?" Hermione prompted.

"No. A man. He called him Eric. Eric Potter. They were lovers." Harry blinked.

"Harry…"

"I think it was my grandfather. My grandfather and Julian Malfoy were in love." Harry grinned. Hermione just looked confused.

"But didn't your granddad marry a woman?" she asked slowly. Harry nodded, closing his eyes.

"It must have been after Julian died. Harry, what year was your dad born?" Ron asked.

"1958."

"The math works, 'Mione." Hermione nodded, and looked around. Harry followed suit.

"What now, then?" she asked, wrinking her nose at the moss and mold growing on the floor and walls.

"Let's just keep looking around, maybe we'll find something or I'll see something that will point us in the right direction." Harry replied, grabbing a bit of the ceiling that had fallen in and pushing it out of his way. There was evidence of nature reclaiming the house; nests had been built in what was left of the rafters, and plants had begun to sprout throughout the room. Bits of civilization were still recognizable; inkwells lay, charred, on the floor; the metal bed frame was covered in soot and had been claimed as a home for local wildlife, and several candelabras were scattered across the floor. A frame on the inside wall even held remnants of a lost piece of artwork that had once hung there. Hermione pulled a few half burned books from a shelf that was hanging by one end, dropping them a moment later when insects began to crawl out. Ron pulled off the front of one of the desk drawers, and several dry, yellowed pieces of paper fluttered to the ground.

"Inside the desk must have been spelled to keep moisture out." Hermione said, leaning over automatically to pick up a sheet of paper that had landed near her. She gasped. "Harry, this was his room, wasn't it! Lady bright… Look at this!" She held out one of the sheets of paper to Ron. Written at the top of the yellow, cracking paper was a name- Julian A. Malfoy. Harry peered over Hermione's shoulder and smiled.

"What does the 'A' stand for, Julian?" He took a step back and something cracked under his foot. He reached down and picked up a silver frame, shaking out the slivers or glass he had broken. "What's this?" he whispered, more to himself than anything else, and Hermione and Ron crowded around his to look. They were faced with an old black and white wizard photograph.

"That must be the Malfoy's. Look at big bad Lucius!" Ron chuckled. Harry ran his fingers along the frame.

"Mon and Dad Malfoy. Melody, holding Lucius. And Julian…" Harry trailed off into silence.

"They were beautiful, all of them. This family must have been the envy of the neighborhood. But where are those trademark platinum locks?" Hermione asked. A voice from behind them made them all jump.

"None of us were blonde. It was quite a surprise when baby Luc grew his light hair." The trio turned slowly, pulling their wands out as one. Three jaws dropped in shock. Harry looked down at the photo in his hands, and back up. Unbelieving, he did it again.

"Who in the bloody blazes are-" Ron grunted in surprise when the elbow digging into his ribs shut him up. "Harry, what the hell?"

"Shut up, Ron! Can't you see? It's Julian!" Harry practically squealed. "Hi! Why didn't you show yourself to us before? Oh. Uh… I'm Harry Potter, and my friends here are Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger." He finished hurriedly.

"I know. I've been watching you. You looked so much like Eric, even your energy felt like him, I knew you had to be related. That's why I gave you the visions. Then when you said you thought he was your grandfather, I knew you were safe, and I could talk to you. I knew you would help me." Julian said, his voice breaking almost imperceptively on the last sentence. Hermione took a step toward him.

"Of course we'll help you, we'll do what we can. What are you exactly? A ghost? Why do you need our help?" she said, her focus completely on the translucent man standing… or floating… before her.

"I'm a ghost, yes. I chose to stay on Earth because I needed to find out what happened to Melody and my Parents, and I wanted to keep an eye on the baby. I knew he had survived, but I haven't been able to find out anything about him since I died. I'm confined to this house, and I can't break the spell that binds me here. If I were alive, it would be no problem, it's a potion and spell combined, and my mother taught me everything she knew about potions. But I can't do it without a body." Julian said, annoyed.

"Julian… My grandfather's name was William Eric Potter. Was it him in the vision? Were you and he…" Harry broke off, blushing. Julian laughed, a light, sweet sound.

"I thought that vision would get to you! Especially after you, Ron, shouted Harry's preferences to the entire house. Yes, Harry, your grandfather and I were lovers. Secretly, of course. He fought his parents on his arranged marriage every day of his life. Elizabeth Watkins was a nice enough girl, but very flighty, and not quite together upstairs. She came from a well off family, though, and her parents had promised her to Eric. He and I had always planned to run away together. When Melody had her baby, it spoiled our plans rather nicely." Julian finished, apparently losing himself in memories. Hermione broke the silence.

"Wasn't that kind of thing hard to hide? You had servants and parents and siblings that could have all figured it out." She asked. Julian nodded.

"It was harder than either of us could have guessed. Melody knew, she had walked in on us kissing once, but she didn't have a problem with it, and she was sworn to secrecy. His parents suspected, given the way he was continuously trying to beg his way out of the arrangement with the Watkins'. But I suppose they got their wish after all. The result is standing before us." He replied, waving a hand at Harry. "And now I have a question for you. Eric. Is he still….? I mean, he used to come back here every week and sit in my room or walk around our land. I didn't yet have enough energy to speak to him, no matter how hard I tried. But he talked to me. He didn't even know I could hear, but he told me he loved me, that he always would. Harry, is he still alive?" Julian asked hopefully. Harry's heart jumped to his throat, and he was washed with sadness. He shook his head, and Julian sank to the floor.

"I'm the last of the Potters. My grandparents died in 1976, my parents in 1981."

"How did they die?"

"My grandmother disappeared after her second child was stillborn. She was never found, and declared dead. After that, my grandpa returned to his old house, the one that he lived in when he was with you, I assume. He… he died in that house. Fell from the balcony. Some people… some people thought it was suicide. No one knew for sure. My parents were both murdered when I was a baby." Harry explained gently.

"Murdered… just as my family was. And my poor Eric… to die by his own hand… I'm sure it must have been suicide. He knew that house, and no accident could have fallen on him there." Julian shook his head. "Does anyone know what happened to Miss Watkins?" Julian was sitting on the floor, mumbling into his hands.

"From what we've found in researching, she just disappeared." Hermione answered. "The Ministry did several different spell searched, but nothing turned up."

"She can't be alive. She was never a strong woman, and the death of her child in her womb must have been a terrifying experience for her. Eric is dead, and his children are dead. Melody is gone. What news do you have of little Lucius?" Julian stared up at the trio. Ron glanced at Harry, and Hermione knelt down next to Julian.

"It's very complicated, and we don't know all the details, but Lucius Malfoy is in prison. He's married, and has a son our age." Hermione finished, shooting the boys a glance that said very clearly to keep their mouths shut. Julian looked shocked.

"Prison! What happened?" he gasped. Harry cleared his throat.

"Like Hermione said, it's a long story, Julian."

"Harry, Hermione, Ron, I've waited almost fifty years. I think I have the extra time." Harry sighed, and Ron wrapped his arms around Hermione, as if he could protect her from the memories about to be stirred.

"Sixty-four years ago, a boy named Tom Riddle entered Hogwarts…."HH


End file.
